


Carry On My Wayward Son

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comforting Human Castiel, Depressed Dean, Depressed Dean Winchester, Depression, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel- freeform, Ficlet, Hurtful Dean, IDGAF, IF, Love, M/M, Sad Story with happy ending, Sadness, Self Harm, Short Story, angst with happy ending, dont like it, dont read it, happiness, woah this gave me feels, you - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 07:04:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5657149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short fanfiction that does include self harm and depression, so be warned. </p><p>Dean is depressed and begins to cut himself only for his best friend, Castiel, to walk in on the scene. It turns out they were both harboring a crush for eachother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry On My Wayward Son

**Author's Note:**

> So this was created quickly and [cri]etly, and I don't really care if you don't like it, I wrote it for me, not for you.

Dean sat down quietly on his bed. It had been a bad day, he had had to save at least three “dweebs” from being bullied. As much as they constantly praised and thanked him for it, his own problems were pushed to the back of his thoughts, and finally flooded him when he reached his house. 

_How was Sam going to pay for college?_ Dean sure as hell wasn’t going to go, but in a couple years time, Sammy would be heading off to nerd school for the big kids. The anger for his father bubbled up inside his chest, wishing his only friend, Castiel, was here.

 _Friend? He isn’t a friend… he.. he should be something more.._ Dean nearly slapped himself at the thought, but he was going to do plenty of that later. He continued sorting through his thoughts, keeping calm. 

_Dad’s drinking problem… That I’m a faggot…_ He shut his eyes again, refusing to let any emotions show. He breathed deeply and headed to his bathroom to clean his face and clear his thoughts. 

_Where was Cas again? Oh yeah, oh yeah, his newspaper club… anything to make him happy.._ Dean splashed the water onto his face, trying to wash the grimy feeling out of his heart, but the water only touched his face, not his heart, not his heart, why was there pain.. 

_Queer. You’re disgusting._ Dean choked, blocking those thoughts from his mind desperately. “I love you, Cas, damnit, I love you!” Dean shouted, raking his hands through his hair in distress.

 _You don’t deserve to be alive, you dirty.. dirty… thing!_ His thoughts screamed at him, and his crazed eyes searched for a relief of the angst and pain in his chest. He couldn’t and wouldn’t find anything in the bathroom, no, he had to keep his secrets away from Sammy, too, Sam would never forgive himself if he knew how troubled Dean was. 

He rushed to his bed, cutting the corner of Sam’s and banging his leg into it viciously. “Ow- oh, ow, no, no, don’t cry!” Dean muttered to himself, now limping to his pillow. He sat down on his bed and composed himself.

Finally, when his breath had stopped hitching in sobs and his thoughts had cleared, one thing was crystal to him: He needed to keep it all secret. 

He pushed his hand under his pillow, nearly nipping himself with the edge of the razor when he reached it. He pulled it out carefully, and then pushed up his sleeve to reveal long jagged lines etched along his arm, and more hesitant, tentative ones closer to his wrist. He picked up the razor, not thinking of what he was really doing. 

It wasn’t cutting, no it wasn’t cutting. The dweebs did that, not him. He needed to feel bad for them, not himself. He would never understand. He pressed the blade against his skin and cut a line across, to shallow to leave anything but a red line.

 _Such a wimp…_ Dean sobbed, and moved on from that wound to create another.

 _Loser.. can’t control his feelings..._ Dean felt a tear slip down his eye, and pushed down a little harder on the blade this time, wanting to feel the ache in his chest dissipate. It wasn’t that it would disappear forever, but it distracted him from the pain in his chest, and almost acted as a diversion to his mind. 

_Face it, you’re a faggot… got the hots for your only friend…_ Dean screamed, low and hoarse, his face coarsed with tears, quietly so as not to attract attention. His shared bedroom door slammed open, revealing a disheveled Castiel staring at him in horror and remorse. 

“Dean?” His voice cracked and tears welled in his eyes. Dean threw the razor and pulled down his sleeve, wiping his eyes. 

“Yeah, what’s up, Cas?” Dean asked nonchalantly, hoping that Castiel would be convinced that it wasn’t what it seemed. 

“Don’t ‘What’s up?’ me Dean, what the fuck?” Castiel yelled, and strided over to the older Winchester boy. 

“What did you do Dean?” He pushed up Dean’s sleeve once more, revealing the cuts. A tear fell onto them, and Dean looked up from his embarrassment to see that Castiel was actually crying.

“Oh no, Cas no, I don’t deserve your tears, no please, don’t cry. You must hate me, I’m so disgusting, oh I’m sorry.” Dean sobbed, holding his own arm as if it was a disease. 

Dean’s head was pushed up by Cas, to once again look him in his beautiful, sea blue eyes. Then Dean was pulled forward, and then their lips collided, and Dean’s world froze. He didn’t move in shock, but eventually leaned into the kiss, and deepened it, loving having Castiel so close to him. He tasted like strawberries, like fields on a summer day, like _happiness_ , and he’d be damned if he said he didn’t want more.

But Dean pulled away, averting his eyes.  
“Cas, you don’t deserve me, I’m stupid, I’m ugly, I’m gay, I mean, you must have heard me, that’s the only reason you would have kissed me..” Dean rambled, trying to convince himself that Castiel would do that for a good, kind reason. 

“No, Dean, you don’t understand apparently,” Castiel smiled sadly, his eyes crinkling, “I didn’t hear you. I _love_ you Dean, have ever since we met those few years ago. Please, ah, please don’t hurt yourself, please talk to me instead, please Dean.” He whispered, his forehead pressed against Dean’s.  
Dean felt his breath hitching, and he knew he was going to start to sob. 

“Yes, Cas, I won’t do it, I’ll talk to you, I love you, I love you too.” He sobbed, and Castiel cradled Dean in his arms. 

“Cas?”

“Dean?”

“Sing to me, please? You know, I’ve always loved your singing!” Dean said, trying to brighten the mood. The heavy feeling in his chest was subdued by love, and for once Dean felt alright. Not great, but ok.

_Carry on my wayward son_  
They’ll be peace when you are done  
Lay your weary head to rest  
Don’t you cry no more… 


End file.
